Beauty and Grace

The truck was stuck
In the dried mud;
It was on fire, with
Flames licking
The rusted carcass,
And the green cactus
Bending under the orange
Sunlight that scrolled above
That dark grey clouds as the
Eggs and bacon sizzled
And popped in the pan
In the diner across
The road.

They were slumped
On their stools;
The old couple who just
Collected their pension cheque,
A biker bent over a crossword
Puzzle on the counter with a cup of
Coffee clutched in his hand, a
Teen couple with their last twenty
Dollars stirring their forks in some
Mashed potatoes.

Above this hell,
Haunting violin notes
Soared over the diner,
Above the green cactus
And above the burning truck
With the flames licking the
Tormented sky.

The fingers of a
Street bum behind
The diner played
His violin like an angel,
The music of Beethoven
Soaring above it all filling
Their ugly world with
Some beauty and grace
As he slumped against
His card box watching
The orange sky burn
The grey clouds.

The old couple,
The biker, and
The teen lovers
Were transfixed as
They listened to this
Beautiful symphony
Float upwards from
The dried desert,
From this death,
As tears trickled
Down their cheeks.

In this ugly world
There were occasionally
Moments of profound
Beauty that transcend,
And this was one of them:
As the truck outside
Burned stuck in the dried mud,
With the green cactus
Bending under the orange
Sun of a dying day
As the eggs and bacon sizzled
And popped in the pan
In the diner.

For that moment,
They had all forgotten their
Mortality and their pain,
For they felt something higher.

For the poor bum
With his violin had
Filled their souls
With beauty and grace,
And that's all that
Mattered to them
At that moment.

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With a digital drawing from Nikos Laios

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